


I Hate Myself for Loving You

by EyeofMazikeen



Series: Songs in The Key of MorMor [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, mormor, song ficlets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-24
Updated: 2013-11-24
Packaged: 2018-01-02 11:59:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1056522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EyeofMazikeen/pseuds/EyeofMazikeen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'I Hate Myself For Loving' You by Joan Jett</p><p>First in the series of a MorMor themed songficlets that were originally posted on Tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Hate Myself for Loving You

_**Daylight spent the night without you** _

_**But I’ve been dreamin’ ‘bout the lovin’ you do** _

_**I won’t be as angry ‘bout the hell you put me through** _

__

1:27 AM - Jim hasn’t come back from his “business trip” yet.  Hasn’t texted Seb at all, actually.  In response, the ex-Colonel walks down to the corner store and buys a pack of cigarettes, goes back to the loft, and smokes the entire thing in Jim’s bedroom.

2:48 AM - Seb sends two texts to his mastermind.  The first reads “You’re late.”  The second, “Are you coming back?”

3:15 AM - Frustrated, the sniper decides it’s high time to break into Jim’s special liquor cabinet.

4:32 AM - Head swimming with expensive whiskey, Seb flops down on his mastermind’s bed, burying his chiseled face Jim’s pillow.  He sighs morosely as he breathes in the scent of the mastermind’s shampoo.  

5:19 AM:  The sky is getting light.  Urged on by the lovely swimming feeling provided by the consulting criminal’s best bottle of whiskey and the scent of Jim surrounding him, Sebastian unbuckles his belt and quickly strokes himself to completion. Back arched, he curses and cries out for Jim in the same ragged breath.  In the back of his mind he hopes he put on a suitably good show for the camera.

5:31 AM - Calloused hands fumble for his mobile, and he taps out one final text with slightly sticky fingers.  “I’m not mad, but you might be.”

6:22 AM - Sunrise, and finally, Seb’s asleep.  Drunken dreams drift towards thoughts of his mastermind’s lithe frame writhing beneath him, and he moans the consulting criminal’s name out in his sleep.  

In the darkness, Jim smiles.

 

_**Hey man betcha you can treat me right** _

_**You just don’t know what you was missin’ last night** _

_**I wanna see you beggin’, say forget it just for spite** _

__

Sebastian is only momentarily startled when he wakes up and Moriarty is beside him.  Quickly glancing at the window, he determines that it’s somewhere in the early afternoon.  In repose, Jim looks so different.  No wild expressions or exaggerated gestures. Eyes closed, dark hair in disarray, he looks like just another man.  Just another very attractive man.  Small in his arms, the consulting criminal feels almost fragile.  Jim arches his back like a cat, curving his spine against the sniper’s side and smiles in his sleep.  Sebastian chuckles softly under his breath, smoothing a dark lock of hair at the mastermind’s temple.  No matter what kind of bullshit Moriarty puts him through, it would always be worth it.

Upon waking, Jim is completely incorrigible.  The smaller man is all hands and mouth and tongue and “Now, now, _now_ Seb!”  Sebastian merely pushes the consulting criminal off him, reaching instead for the water and cocktail of painkillers he left at the bedside table the night before.  Black eyes watch Seb down the meds.  “Looks like I missed quite the party.”

 “You have no idea.  You really missed out, boss.  I was so hard for you, and you weren’t anywhere to be found.  Had to take care of it all by myself.”  Sebastian’s voice comes out rougher than intended, but Jim attributes it to the whiskey and cigarettes rather than the larger man’s obvious frustration.

 “Sebsies, I’m here now,” his breathless Irish lilt makes Seb shiver, and as badly as he wants it he knows what he has to do.

 “Great.  So I’ll be needing toast and an apology, in that order.”  Jim quirks a dark eyebrow and reaches for Sebastian’s pajama bottoms, but the sniper swats the elegant hand away.  “An apology with actual words, Jim.”  A smile crosses the sniper’s lips as his mastermind makes a face like he’s bitten into something rotten.  Ah, that pride.  As much as it’s going to tax Sebastian's libido for the next few days, getting an apology from Jim will be so worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm taking requests for MorMor themed song ficlets, so if you have a song (with or without prompt) you'd like me to write for please drop me a line and I'll get you one!


End file.
